CARLTON FLETCHER: One man’s pot-head is another man’s hero

“One generation got old, one generation got soul.”

— Jefferson Airplane

I was expecting it, as soon as the Super Bowl halftime extravaganza ended … absolutely knew it would happen.

I wasn’t disappointed.

The next day, Monday for those of you not paying attention, I overheard a group complaining about the Super Bowl halftime show, which featured Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, 50 Cent, Kendrick Lamar, Mary J. Blige and Eminem. And before the confetti had even stopped flying, this newspaper’s Squawkbox had received a number of the same kinds of complaints that I overheard.

“Was that supposed to be entertainment?” “It was the worst halftime show ever.” “That music, if you call it music, was awful.”

Blah, blah, blah.

I wanted to, but I didn’t at the time because I had things to do and was not ready to challenge a group of very angry Baby Boomers — plus, it pains me to say, the anger of some of these folks was kinda scary. What I wanted to do was go up to this group and say, “Why don’t you say what you really mean: ‘It was a shame seeing all those black people up there doing that hip-hop music’ that offends your sensibilities so badly?”

I wanted to remind these folks of the good old days of rock and roll — the time when they were kids — how Motown was the pop music of the day, but they had to put up with the condemnation of their parents, who couldn’t understand why correctly raised children would listen to the likes of Stevie Wonder, the Temptations, Marvin Gaye, the Supremes.

What did David Byrne say … “Same as it ever was, same as it ever was.”

So here’s the deal for those of you who hate rap/hip-hop without ever having listened to it because the artists who perform it are pretty much all black and dress funny and curse a lot. As much as you may try to deny it, this music is the pop music of this generation. It’s performed mostly by black artists — Eminem, who is one of the best practitioners, by the way, is white — because it’s music of the streets, music that talks of the trials and tribulations of life, admittedly, some of them fabricated for effect, by today’s young people.

If you think you’re going to convince young people to listen to the music that you like — and, yes, your music is the best music ever made — you’re just too far removed from what it was like to be young. Surely you can remember your parents complaining about the music you listened to, and how frustrating it was to have them poke fun at your favorite musicians and how they looked and the things they said.

It was very much appropriate, no matter what you might think, for hip-hop/rap artists to perform at the Super Bowl. Theirs is the music of young America, the music of the streets, and the overwhelming majority of athletes who play the game are young and black, a demographic that grew up as mesmerized by their musical heroes as you were yours.

Of course, the NBC talking head who called it “the greatest halftime show ever” may have been paid to hype the show and she was only doing her job, but this halftime show was nowhere near the best ever. The one thing about hip-hop/rap that detracts from it is that it really does not play well live. It’s great to see these artists — who were, by the way, among the best of their genre — in a live setting, but if you were paying attention, you saw that the music and a large part of the vocals were pre-recorded. You don’t get that kind of accuracy to the original recordings live.

And so you’re left with nice visuals, but a pretty much anticlimactic non-performance.

That’s OK, though. It was time for the stodgy NFL to work its way toward this century. Had it done so earlier, and not treated its talent like so many pieces of meat, it probably would not have been embarrassed and lost a large number of its loyal fans because of the antics of an only mildly talented player like Colin Kaepernick.

Oh, but there was one funny part of this discussion I overheard. One person was talking about the artists, and he said, “That Snoop Dogg is nothing but a no-talent, thug, pot-head.”

I later had a brief, semi-private moment with the gentleman who made that statement and I asked him what kind of music he listened to. He said — no surprise — “Good ole country music.”

(Some of you may be ahead of me here.)

I asked him who his favorite artists were, and he started naming them. I asked him what he thought of Willie Nelson, and he said, “He’s one of the greatest singers alive, a real country hero.”

No, I didn’t explain to him what irony is, and I didn’t tell him why his comments were so ironic. I just walked away with a smile on my face.